


What The Water Gave Me

by WednesdaysDaughter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Claudia Stilinski Feels, Elemental Magic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Magical Claudia Stilinski, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Minor Character Death, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pack Bonding, Selkies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-13 05:39:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4509906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WednesdaysDaughter/pseuds/WednesdaysDaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It took Stiles longer than he’d like to admit to realize his mother’s stories weren’t just stories. Werewolves were one thing, magic was another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Tender Push and Pull

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can blame this on my desire to see the ocean again. Well, that and some amazingly beautiful 8tracks playlists.

Claudia was born with the waves crashing outside the window of her parent’s seaside home.

With the salt air coating her lungs, she grew up with a longing for the ocean so fierce it made her bones ache on dry land. Summers of drought were the worst, forcing Claudia into any water she could find even when the chlorine dried out her skin to the point it cracked and bled. Her mother swore she could taste a storm on her tongue and her father had the greenest thumb around.

Claudia was born with a knowledge of nature that seemed otherworldly to those who did not believe; a sense that would eventually awaken in her son.

When he was young, Claudia took Stiles to the ocean as often as she could. John wasn’t always able to come, but when he did he stayed land-locked. Her mother scolded Claudia for marring a man of logic and stone, but Claudia knew one day he’d open his eyes and see all that she could. She didn’t know madness would take her before then, but even sailors get lost in the ocean at night and she was no different.

In fits of clarity Claudia would smell the ocean and feel its cool breeze across her skin. It called to her with an intensity that rivaled the disease in her brain. The pull of Beacon Hills kept her tethered to her hospital bed longer than if she’d been anywhere else. When she wasn’t losing time, Claudia told Stiles of her seaside adventures; of mermaids and selkies and the forgotten creatures that lurk beneath the waves. She could see the fear in his eyes, the guilt and it made her violent visions all the more terrifying.

She could never hate her son, her precious forest child, and yet… he frightened her.

Claudia hated the dementia: Hated it more than the knowledge she was going to die. It took the light in her life and tainted it until she couldn’t remember what water felt like across her heated skin. She forgot the stories her babica told her at night and the way John would kiss the corner of her eye when she laughed. The day she forgot her wedding day brought forth the worst of the visions, the wild hysteria and feel of Stiles’ skin underneath her nails sent Claudia into a darkness she’d never pull herself from.

Claudia loses track of time, loses a sense of herself and when she turns to see the moon outside her window she knows it’s time.

Gathering the last of her strength, she cradles Stiles’ hand in hers and doesn’t realize she’s crying until he reaches up with his free hand to brush her tears away.

“My precious gwiazdko there is so much I haven’t told you yet, so much I wanted to teach you. But there is a reason to all things in life: The pull of the tide, the falling of trees, and even death. You must promise me that you will be brave and learn to listen and to look and to believe.”

When Stiles nods and chokes on his promise Claudia takes a last breath and her ‘I love you’ floats down the hall before Stiles’ cries can alert the staff.

She is going home at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't the slightest how long this is going to be, but I'm sort of hoping for three chapters max? Hopefully this won't become another one of my unfinished fics because I'm really looking forward to it. I even made a graphic, that's how pumped I am about this.
> 
> The rating will change when I add more and maybe some of the tags; I just wanted to list what I knew for a fact was going to be relevant in the future.


	2. Born of Earth and Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tasting salt on his tongue, Stiles throws himself into the next swell, letting his laughter drown until he’s crying tears of relief. He’s shaking when Derek pulls him up, wrapping a warm towel around his chilled frame. Stiles doesn’t have to explain himself to Derek; he’s familiar with the feeling of overwhelming release bordering on the point of madness. Derek feels it every time he shifts, every time he runs in the woods he grew up in. 
> 
> Home calls to them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all do not have any idea how badly I've been dying to finish this. After I got fired Friday I felt all my enthusiasm die a fiery death and I ate and and napped all weekend. It wasn't until I forced myself to reread the first chapter and brainstorm some ideas that I was able to sit down for roughly 8 hours today and finish.
> 
> I really hope I'm excited about this for a reason: I hope it's as good as I think it is.

The thick canopy obscures the moon above, barely allowing wisps of light to illuminate the rough terrain below.

A hush has fallen over the woods. Once alive with the chatter of trees, night has stolen their conversations and replaced them with restless whispers. Animals burrow further into their dens and the birds hide their beady eyes beneath their wings. Even the babbling brook cannot pierce the oppressive silence and her hymns fade into warnings.

“I’m not so sure about this Stiles.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Stiles aims a reassuring smile in Kira’s direction. She reaches out to grab his arm when he trips and the smile turns sheepish.

“If I told you not to worry, would you listen?”

The look she levels him with is answer enough, so Stiles just shrugs and continues down the path he marked last weekend. Kira’s hand slides down until she’s gripping the back of his hoodie and she follows him step for step until Stiles stops at a rotted stump. Wordlessly he slides the bag off his back and pulls out a candle and jar or dark liquid.

“Please tell me that isn’t blood.” Kira pleads.

“It isn’t blood.”

“Are you lying to me?”

“Yep!”

Kira swallows the lump in her throat and steels herself for whatever Stiles is going to ask of her. He could’ve brought Scott or Lydia, or even Derek for his little ritual, but instead he singled her out when she was alone and prodded her until she gave in. It didn’t help that his relief was so obvious and his gratitude sincere; Kira had a hard time saying no to people, especially when they really needed her help.

“Ready Kira?” Stiles asks and she’s nodding before she has the mind to ask ‘ready for what?’

“Cool, I just need you to sit on this stump and hold the candle with both hands in your lap.”

Kira eyes Stiles suspiciously, but does what he asks anyway. The stump was soft, coated in green moss and she was struck by the smell of decay. Nose wrinkled, Kira took a deep breath and watched Stiles light the white candle she cradled gently in her hands.

Nothing happened.

She must have looked disappointed because Stiles laughed and uncorked the jar. The words that he spoke next weren’t in a language she’d ever heard before and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. Her skin began to buzz and the wind slowly but surely picked up, playing with her hair and the leaves on the ground. Stiles’ eyes met hers and Kira suddenly knew what was coming next when he dipped his fingers into the blood.

She wanted to flinch, but the look in Stiles’ eyes stopped her and she blinked slowly in permission just before his fingers brushed across her forehead.

Lightening shot down her spine and Kira gasped when she heard the murmuring of the trees around them. The woods came to life, welcoming her into its haven and when Stiles pulled away his smile was infectious. Though he didn’t tell her to do it, Kira brought the candle to her lips and blew it out. Smoke wafted through the clearing and slowly the woods went back to sleep, leaving Kira with a pulse in her bones she knew would never leave.

Stiles offers her a hand up and when she’s steady on two feet, Kira squeezes tightly.

“Thank you.”

\- - - - - - - - - -

It took Stiles longer than he’d like to admit to realize his mother’s stories weren’t just stories. Werewolves were one thing, magic was another.

“I thought you said I was a spark – or that I had a spark.”

Stiles can’t hide his shaking hands so he crosses them over his chest in hopes of anchoring himself to the moment. It’s after hours at Deaton’s and Scott left hours ago for date night with Allison. Stiles had only dropped by due to his trouble with translations and he knew better than to call Lydia after eight on Sunday.

“I did say that, but being a magical conduit doesn’t negate the fact you have a spark Stiles. Both mean you have the ability to channel magic, to bring it forth. You’re also able to control it, use it to your advantage and that of the packs.”

Stiles has a headache.

“With practice, I believe you could become very powerful, in some fields more than others.”

Stiles’ curiosity was a dangerous thing.

“Which fields exactly?”

Deaton pulls a vial of ash from underneath the table.

“Elemental.”

Stiles goes home with more reading than he’d originally intended as well as a couple supplies to help in his homework: Meditation. As he reads well into the morning, Stiles recalls his mother’s stories of the ocean and how it called to her. It’s not hard to connect the dots and he’s struck violently by grief when he realizes what she didn’t get to share with him before she died.

Days pass and Stiles throws himself into Deaton’s lesson plan with an intensity rarely witnessed. He misses pack night and has to convince Scott he’s not dying, just busy. “Busy” apparently wasn’t a good enough excuse for Derek and he’s crawling through Stiles’ window the night before the full moon only to be blasted through it with a gust of air Stiles had been cradling in his hands. It takes Derek a few seconds to get his bearings and when he does, he sees Stiles leaning out his window; eyes wide and smile so wide it might split his face.

“I am the Avatar,” he announces proudly before slamming his window shut and closing the blinds. Derek uses the front door from that night on.

\- - - - - - - - - -

“We need to go to the beach.”

The sounds of laughter filter into the kitchen where Derek’s putting the finishing touches on the kabobs. Stiles lounges against the doorway and when his statement doesn’t get a response he slinks behind Derek and stares until Derek huffs.

“Do we need to have another talk about personal space?”

Stiles snorts, but steps backwards until Derek can turn around without bumping into him.

“No such thing when werewolves are involved dude.”

Not bothering to respond, Derek plates the kabobs and walks past Stiles to the patio where Boyd’s keeping an eye on the grill. Undeterred, Stiles follows; plopping into a seat next to Allison who’s taking the time to clean her array of weapons. Malia and Isaac are engaged in an arm wrestling contest and Kira’s cheering from the sidelines with Erica. Shouts from inside pour through the windows and soon Scott comes racing past, Jackson hot on his heels.

“You cheated McCall!”

Lydia comes up behind Stiles and rests her elbows on his shoulders, rolling her eyes when Allison asks what happened. Boyd casually stretches his legs as he leans against the deck railing, sending Scott and Jackson tumbling into the yard. They roll around, sending insults back and forth until Malia slams Isaac’s hand down and yips in victory. Erica pouts, but makes a show of kissing his wrist before hopping over the railing and tackling Jackson.

After that, it’s a free-for-all.

Malia pulls Kira towards the tussle and Isaac shrugs before nudging Boyd with his shoulder and winks. Scott’s laughter eventually pulls Boyd from Derek’s side and Kira tackles him to the ground before he can plant both feet in the grass. Malia’s too busy using Jackson as a ladder to see Erica come up from behind and then they’re rolling around the clearing snarling playfully. Isaac has Scott in a headlock, but when Boyd manages to free himself from Kira, he tosses her off, sending her stumbling into Isaac who loses his hold and goes down. Scott howls gleefully until Jackson checks him into Erica and it dissolves into a messy pile of limbs rolling around the ground.

Half tempted to join, Stiles is stopped dead by a pale blue butterfly landing on his shoulder. 

Sensing the sudden change in Stiles, Derek turns and Scott fights his way to the top of the pile. The playful atmosphere is gone with the color in Stiles’ cheeks and he doesn’t move until he feels Derek’s hands on his back.

With four words the pack’s demeanor changes into a tense storm of worry.

“My dad’s been shot.”

\- - - - - - - - - -

The staff at Beacon Hills Hospital has long stopped caring where Stiles goes.

The unspoken rule is that as long as Melissa McCall keeps an eye on him, everyone else will leave him alone. Between the days he spent at his mother’s side and the numerous times his friends have been admitted, the staff has silently agreed to let him go where he pleases. When the Sheriff is admitted with a GSW to the chest, no one is surprised when Stiles storms through the front door and heads directly to where his father is recovering.

Melissa prevents the others from following.

“Family first, until he comes to. Then you all can go back – a couple at a time – and see John.”

“But we are family!” Scott protests, his hands bawled in fists to hide the claws fighting to break free. Allison buries her face in his shoulder and nuzzles him until he’s able to relax.

“I know sweetheart, but I think Stiles needs some time alone right now,” Melissa runs her hand through Scott’s hair and he smiles softly.

Derek ushers the others towards the waiting room, but Melissa grabs his arm and pulls him aside.

“No one even had time to call Stiles – how did you get here so quickly?”

“A butterfly told him.”

It’s a credit to Melissa’s ability to handle supernatural information that she doesn’t even blink at Derek’s answer.

“That’s a new one,” she muses before squeezing Derek’s arm and heading back to the main desk to grab her charts. It’s taken Derek a while to get used to the way people touch him now: The affection leaves him dizzy and Lydia pats the seat next to her for him to sit down. Boyd sits sandwiched between Erica and Isaac. Kira can’t sit still so she paces in front of Malia who makes sure to grab her hand every few passes. Scott makes himself comfortable on the ground and Allison anchors him with each caress of her hands through his hair. When Jackson wraps and arm around the back of Lydia’s chair she reaches over and lays a hand on his thigh.

No one says anything until Melissa comes back with good news. Her eyes are red, but her smile reassures them that John is okay.

“You can go in two to three at a time, but make it quick. Visiting hours are almost over. Stiles may have unlimited access to these halls, but you all haven’t earned that privilege yet.”

Scott and Allison go first, both pausing to give Melissa a hug.

“You should go with them.” Lydia nudges Derek’s shoulder, but he shakes his head.

“I’ll wait.”

Lydia doesn’t try to hide her exasperation, but she doesn’t say anything else either. Five minutes later, Scott returns and Lydia’s out of her seat before he can wave her back. Kira and Malia go next, followed by Isaac, Erica, and Boyd. Everyone had agreed to meet back at Derek’s, so when Erica stops and tells him they’ll wait in the car, Derek nods and heads back.

Stiles is dozing in the chair next to John’s bed so he doesn’t register right away that Derek’s entered the room.

“Hey Derek, everyone else left?” John asked and Derek nodded.

“We agreed to stay at my place tonight.”

John winces, “So much for your pack barbeque.”

“Yeah, because now we’ll never be able to have another one.” Derek deadpans.

Stiles snorts and cracks an eye open.

“No one ever believes me when I tell them how sarcastic you are.”

“I think Malia is on to me,” Derek confesses.

John watches their exchange carefully. It’s not until he tries to sit up and winces when they remember that he’s in the room.

“Careful Dad, don’t wanna pull those stitches.” Stiles scolds.

“Parent,” John points to himself, “child.”

Stiles scoffs at his father’s finger and brushes it away.

“Injured,” he copies, waving his finger in John’s face, “healthy.”

“Maybe healthy isn’t the right word,” Derek mumbles and John’s laugh covers Stiles’ indignant sputtering.

“As charming as this is, I’m gonna have to kick you both out now so John and can rest.”

Melissa rests a hand on Stiles’ back and he leans into her touch. Derek can practically feel John’s gratitude, so he nods and makes his way to the door. Grumbling, albeit more for show, Stiles gives John a brief hug and makes him promise not to remove the amulet from under his pillow. Derek notices the feathers peeking out for under the white sheets. John swears he won’t touch it and that seems to satisfy Stiles enough because the stiffness leaves his shoulders and he follows Derek out of the room without a fuss.

They’re halfway to the car when Stiles stops.

“Maybe the beach isn’t such a good idea.”

Derek turns to see Stiles staring up at John’s window with a frown etched on his lips. He looks years older, standing beneath the sickly lamppost light; dark circles seemingly tattooed under his amber eyes. The night is still, sensing the worry Stiles carries with him like a security blanket and Derek doesn’t hesitate to reach out and touch his forearm.

“I think it’s just what we need.”

Stiles smile is sad when he looks down at where they’re touching.

“Something bad is coming Derek.”

He doesn’t say that he’s scared because Derek can smell it; can taste it in the back of his throat because he’s scared too, but for different reasons. A year ago, Derek would’ve sought out whatever was tormenting Beacon Hills, but he takes in the way Stiles seems to sag in his skin and makes a decision.

“Then we’ll deal with it when we get back.”

Stiles wants to protest, but Derek pulls him towards the car where Isaac is sleeping tucked between Erica and Boyd in the back seat. There’s pizza waiting at Derek’s place and Lydia agrees to watch a movie that isn’t The Notebook. When Stiles brings up the beach in the middle of Jupiter Ascending, everyone agrees before he can even try to talk the idea down. They agree to leave when John is released from the hospital and when Scott assures Stiles that his mom will take care of him, Stiles gives in.

That night Stiles dreams of his mother.

_As long as the moon calls to the sea, you’ll never be alone my precious gwiazdko. This is my home and you’ll always be welcomed. Whenever you feel sad or restless just come to the shore and let it carry your sadness out to sea. You won’t be alone for long._

\- - - - - - - - - -

Lydia’s aunt owns a beach house and with a couple well-placed words it’s theirs for the weekend.

They take three cars with Jackson taking the lead while Lydia navigates in the front seat. Halfway through the trip, Malia and Kira switch from Stiles’ Jeep to Jackson’s Porsche so they can stretch out more. Scott controls the music and Allison naps, body taking up the back of the Jeep. Derek’s Camaro plays host to Isaac, Erica, and Boyd who switch passenger seats constantly in hopes of driving Derek nuts. When he threatens to leave them on the side of the road, they settle down long enough for Erica to pass out and Isaac to browse through Derek’s CD collection.

Five hours and one wrong turn later and Stiles throws his Jeep in park and races towards the shore without warning.

Scott calls to him, but Stiles is too enthralled with the smell and feel of the ocean to care. He throws his head back and howls until the others join him. A wave rushes up to meet Stiles and he’s soaked before he can take a deep breath. It knocks him down, but he’s not scared. It’s like coming home to an excited pet that can’t wait to smother you in affection.

Tasting salt on his tongue, Stiles throws himself into the next swell, letting his laughter drown until he’s crying tears of relief. He’s shaking when Derek pulls him up, wrapping a warm towel around his chilled frame. Stiles doesn’t have to explain himself to Derek; he’s familiar with the feeling of overwhelming release bordering on the point of madness. Derek feels it every time he shifts, every time he runs in the woods he grew up in.

Home calls to them all.

Malia’s the next to charge into the water, a war cry filling the air when Kira follows. Erica shrieks when Boyd tosses her in and Isaac chases Jackson into the water with Allison on his back. Lydia’s linked arms with Scott who wants to run in, but decides to escort her down first.

They spend the next hour drenched from head to toe and when Stiles starts to feel the telltale sign of sunburn he calls a cease fire and reluctantly everyone agrees. It doesn’t take them long to unpack and claim their respected rooms. Lydia and Jackson claim the master bedroom upstairs and Allison drags Scott to the room on their right. Across the hallway, with a gorgeous view of the ocean, Kira and Malia fling themselves onto the bed and dissolve into an impromptu pillow fight while Isaac, Erica, and Boyd claim the bedroom downstairs next to the kitchen.

Stiles lays his bag next to the smaller couch and grins at Derek who’s still standing in the doorway.

“Looks like we’ve been sexiled dude. Couch buddies for the win!”

Derek snorts and makes his way to the kitchen to start dinner. Stiles follows and it’s a good thirty minutes before the others join them, dry and hungry. Lydia drags some spare blankets from the linen closet and lays them out on Stiles and Derek’s couches.

“If you need more, we have some in the spare bedroom,” she gestures to the room down the hallway and Stiles waves her off.

“We’ll be fine Lyds, thanks.”

“Are you gonna be okay on the couch Stiles?” Scott asks.

After flipping a pancake, Stiles holds up his batter-splattered spatula. “As much as I appreciate your offer to cuddle with you and Allison – because hey, who wouldn’t want to snuggle up to this,” he waves the spatula over his body, “I would prefer to be down here.”

‘Closer to the ocean’ remains unsaid, but they all hear it anyway.

Scott smiles in relief and snatches a sausage link before Derek can bat his hand away.

They eat on the covered porch and watch the sun set until Jackson enlists Scott and Boyd’s help with gathering driftwood to light in the fire pit. Allison and Lydia bring the cushions from the porch furniture and lay them in a circle around the struggling flame. When it suddenly flares to life, Jackson leaps back, knocking Lydia into the sand as Stiles cackles behind them.

“You’re dead Stilinski,” Jackson growls and chases Stiles into the water where a huge wave slams into him, pushing him back onto the shore.

“You probably shouldn’t threaten Stiles here,” Lydia scoffs dryly before sending Jackson inside to change.

“The banshee is correct.”

Everyone whips around to see a tall woman helping Stiles to his feet. Ink black hair laced with seaweed and tiny white shells lay across her bare chest and a gray pelt clings to her hips. With a good five inches on Stiles’ 5’11” she couldn’t look more otherworldly if she tried. Derek watches in fascination as three seals pull themselves onto the sand; beady eyes watching them for signs of danger. Stiles is the only one with a steady heartbeat as he turns to the woman and grasps her upper arm.

“He was only joking,” he assures her with a smile.

She cocks her head, “Be that as it may we don’t take kindly to others who threaten our own.”

To everyone’s surprise, Stiles flushes and looks away.

“I’ll bet you say that to all the guys.”

The bark of laughter that follows helps Derek relax and slowly Scott and the others lower their guard as Stiles makes introductions.

“Guys this is Mira. Mira, this is my pack.”

Scott’s the first to stand and offer his hand in greeting, which Mira ignores and instead leans forward to press her forehead against his.

“You are known.”

 She does this to everyone, even Jackson who eyes her with trepidation. The seals stay back, but they relax and roll around in the sand with Stiles who makes sure to greet them as well.

“You’re a selkie,” Derek says in awe when she sits next to him.

“You’re a werewolf,” she returns, studying him with an intensity that makes Derek want to wiggle in his seat. Stiles comes to his rescue and lays a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“I take it you didn’t just come up here to scare my friends.”

“True, but it certainly was a perk,” Mira teases.

When Stiles gives Mira his full attention, her playful attitude vanishes and suddenly everyone’s back on edge. Her words send a chill throughout the circle and Stiles’ face is grim when he walks her back the water where she slides back into her skin and swims off.

“There are whispers on the waves Stiles. Something bad is coming. Mutilated corpses are carried down from the north, sinking to the ocean floor where not even the scavengers will touch them. They bleed silver and poison the water around them. The merfolk are restless – Pasha sees darkness in the seaweed and sent me to warn you. These are landlocked monsters Stiles; you must be on high alert. Not even our waves can wash their evil from you.”

Forehead damp from her blessing, Stiles ushers everyone inside so he can talk to the sea. It’s not that he doesn’t believe Mira, and Pasha is known for their sight, but Stiles needs to hear it with his own magic. It’s half-past two in the morning by the time Stiles comes in; sand coating his skin and salt burning his eyes. Derek’s the only one left awake.

“How bad is it?” he asks, voice a whisper in the large living room.

When Stiles sighs, it’s like watching a balloon deflate and he collapses onto his couch without hesitation. Derek’s by his side and placing a hot cup of chai in Stiles’ hands before he has time to respond. Groaning in thanks, Stiles downs the tea even though it must scald his mouth and he rests his weight against Derek’s side. He’s half-dead with exhaustion so Derek takes the cup from Stiles’ heavy hands and helps him lay down. Stiles doesn’t seem to know what’s happening until Derek’s pulling a blanket over him and his hand shoots out to cling to Derek’s arm.

“It’s really bad Der.”

Derek startles at the desperation in Stiles’ voice and feels helpless as he watches Stiles drift into a restless sleep. Before he pulls away and settles onto his couch, Derek leans forward and places a kiss on Stiles’ forehead, right where Mira did earlier.

He settles in for a long night, closing his eyes and missing the fond smile Stiles shoots him before finally succumbing to sleep.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Despite the warning Mira gave them, they don’t cut their trip short.

Stiles convinces them he’ll need supplies before heading home and enlists Kira and Lydia’s help with collecting the right kind of shells, sand, and seaweed. Malia and Allison decide to institute a training drill and Derek agrees they need to freshen up their skills.

“Fighting on unfamiliar terrain will strengthen your abilities when we return to Beacon Hills.”

The selkies do not return, but when Stiles’ stomach growls a couple of dozen oysters wash upon shore along with a handful of unlucky fish.

“Dude, have you always been able to do that?” Scott asks as he guts a large tuna.

Stiles shrugs.

“My mom used to pack lunches whenever we came so I never had a chance to get hungry.”

“Hey, do you think you could summon a deer back home?” Erica inquires and Stiles grimaces.

“I mean sure, maybe, but I spend a lot of time in those woods casting protection charms. I’m not sure how I feel about eating Bambi’s kids.”

“Then how come you’re eating those oysters?” Jackson rips into his fish violently and Stiles loses his appetite a little.

He doesn’t answer right away and when he does Lydia elbow Jackson in the gut sharply and he winces before grunting in apology.

“I guess it’s because the ocean is my mom’s home. Kinda feels like she’s still looking out for me.”

Stiles sends the fish they don’t eat back into the water and thanks the ocean for her gift with a lock of his hair that follows the tide out until it sinks beneath the waves. Allison surprises him by doing the same and soon all of them offer their hair in gratitude.

The rest of the day passes quickly, with Stiles practicing his hand-to-hand with Allison while answering any question the pack had about what else lurked in the water. Twilight comes quietly and with it, Stiles’ insistence the pack meditates together. With his guidance they make it until the sun is no longer visible on the horizon and for the first night in weeks they all sleep peacefully. Dawn watches them pack up and leave.

Stiles is the last one to get ready.

He wades into the ocean until the water rests just above his hips and Derek watches, entranced, as Stiles voice hangs in the air like a thundercloud. He doesn’t bother drying himself off before sliding into the Jeep. Lydia waits in the passenger seat looking over the map as Malia and Boyd look through the books Stiles brought with them for any clue as to what was about to hit Beacon Hills.

“What if it isn’t supernatural?” Malia eventually asks when the books yield no answers.

Lydia calls Allison and tells her to call her dad and warn him that hunters might be coming to town soon. Stiles’ grip on the steering wheel tightens and Boyd can hear the pull of his muscles and ache in his bones.

“How bad can they really be?”  

The car falls silent and when Stiles’ finally laughs it’s dark and thick, caught in his throat like slime.

“Worse than any we’ve faced before.” Lydia hisses and thrusts her phone towards Stiles who has to pull over to control his shaking.

Chris Argent had sent Allison a news article detailing the murders of three teens found Friday night in a river on the edge of the preserve. Worse, there were three more teens missing and one of them was Danny.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Stiles goes twenty over the speed limit until he’s at the police station.

His dad’s been on desk duty since he was released from the hospital and he doesn’t look surprised when Stiles marches into his office with Lydia trailing behind him. Signaling them to close the door, John reluctantly slides a file across the desk and Stiles’ reading it before the latch clicks on the door. Shades drawn, Lydia looks at the board behind the desk and takes notes on her phone.

“Derek and Scott are at the river hoping to catch a scent,” Stiles says after he hands the file over the Lydia.

“And Jackson and Kira are at the Mahealani’s offering them comfort.”

“Be honest with me Stiles, do you know what did this?” John gestures to the ashen bodies with holes in their necks. Each victim had various cuts and bruises along their bodies as if they’d been operated on. It felt too precise to be something supernatural and he tells John as much.

“Chris has heard rumors of a group of hunters moving down from Washington,” Stiles begins, but Lydia interrupts.

“Hunters might not be the best term; more like would-be scientists with a high body count.”

“Are you telling me that people did this?” John feels like he’s going to be sick and Stiles’ face says the same.

“Not just ordinary people Sheriff, people who think they’re like Gods.”

John sits down hard, jostling the board behind him and he rests his hands in his hands until he can calm himself. Stiles’ phone rings and the conversation is brief.

“Boyd says Deaton might have something. He’s calling Derek and we’re going to meet them there.”

John stands and grabs Stiles’ arm before he can follow Lydia out the door.

“This is the part where I tell you to be careful and if it gets to be too much you call me. Just because they might have some voodoo on their side doesn’t mean you can completely disregard the law Stiles.”

Stiles wants to argue, wants to point out that the Beacon Hills Police Department hasn’t been overly helpful since werewolves started running about, but John wears stress like a bulletproof vest these days and it makes guilt swirl in Stiles’ stomach. He pivots and wraps John in a tight hug before pulling away.

“I promise if they can be disarmed quietly I’ll let the fine men and women of BHPD take them in and lock them away for good.”

It’s all Stiles is going to give and John knows it.

Lydia’s on the phone with Allison when Stiles catches up and tells him to stop and pick her up before heading to Deaton’s. Scott and Derek beat them by ten minutes, but Lydia calls to check in on Jackson and Kira as they pull up next to the Jeep.

“Danny’s parents are a mess,” Kira sighs into Malia’s shoulder and Jackson is quiet when he files in next to Lydia. Deaton waits until he has their attention before handing Scott information he had faxed over from a friend in Seattle. He skims over what Deaton’s highlighted and then passes it to Stiles, who shifts it over so Derek can read it too.

“So, they are human,” Scott concludes and Stiles shakes his head.

“Not anymore. Once a person sells their soul, once they welcome that darkness into their body they’ll never be human again.”

“Puppets,” Derek spits out in disgust and a mummer of agreement runs through the pack.

“Shadows,” Deaton corrects and Stiles shivers.

“What’s worse is that when they die, they have the potential to become wraiths: Infinitely harder to banish than regular ghosts.”

“Remember when our biggest problem was a pop quiz in Chemistry?” Isaac mourns and Scott bumps his shoulder lightly, offering comfort.

“Still pissed that Harris didn’t turn out to be something evil I could banish,” mumbles Stiles and Lydia pins him with an amused look.

“Please, you’d banish him whether he was an evil creature or not.”

“Perhaps you should save your banishing for these beings first,” Deaton chides and the weight of what’s coming slams back into them. Stiles grimaces and asks the question on everyone’s mind.

“So, what do we do?”

\- - - - - - - - - -

The crystal thumps loudly when it lands on the map, causing Scott to jolt out of his chair to see where it landed.

“The old water treatment facility?” Scott asks in disbelief as if Stiles’ confirmation would change what was staring him in the face.

“Yeah, I guess so. Which when you think about it, isn’t the worse place to hide people you’ve kidnapped for nefarious purposes. You should take Malia and Boyd with you and call Derek if you need backup.”

Stiles calls Lydia who’s at the hospital with the second body to turn up since Sunday. It’s been over thirty-six hours and this is the first lead they have on Danny’s location. If the timetable stays true to what was established with the first three victims, they have less than twelve hours to find Danny before he attends his own bayou burial.

“What about you?” Scott frets.

Stiles looks out his window and tenses as if expecting to see someone glaring up at him. Since returning home, Stiles couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched and it was only after almost decapitating Derek with a pie plate earlier that morning that he admitted his suspicions. 

“It’s daylight, I doubt anything'll happen here.”

Seeing the look on Scott’s face, Stiles relents. “Okay, how about I call Kira and Erica to come babysit me since Allison’s busy helping her dad identify these creeps.”

Appeased, Scott beams at him and promises to call when they find Danny.

No one hears from Scott, Malia, or Boyd for six hours.

Stiles doesn’t panic, but he doesn’t sit still either; driving Erica to the point where she threatens to tie him to his chair. Kira tells him she’d cut him loose when Erica leaves the room to call Isaac, but then threatens to nick him a few times if he doesn’t settle down a little.

Allison and Lydia hold up at Stiles’ when they’re unable to get hold of the others and it’s not until Erica’s call goes straight to Derek’s voicemail that the others start to get twitchy too. Isaac and Erica leave to look for Derek despite the fact Lydia warns them it might be a trap. When they turn to ask Stiles’ opinion he’s torn, but ultimately tells them to go.

“Keep these tucked underneath your shirts and focus on Derek.”

The wooden circles are laced with feathers and silk; two gems of jasper and tigers eye hang in the middle with a sprig of Sonchus cradled between them.

 When they leave, Stiles calls his dad to let him know what’s going on and doesn’t try to talk him out of sending a patrol unit to the old water treatment facility. In the end, it’s a good thing. Two hours later, Stiles gets a call and he sinks to the floor in relief.

Deputies arrived in time to stop two armed men from dragging Scott back into the facility. They were killed on sight and the deputies found Danny, bound to a row of pipes along with Malia who’d been knocked unconscious. Boyd and Scott both gave their statements, which sounded believable enough to have them released and checked over by a fretful Melissa. Danny would have to spend a couple days in the hospital so they could check out his wounds and fix his dehydration, but he’d be okay.

Malia walked out when no one was looking and met up with Scott and Boyd at Stiles’ just after eight.

“Where’s Erica and Isaac?” Boyd asks and it’s like a switch flips in Stiles’ mind.

“They went looking for Derek. No one’s heard from him since this morning.” Lydia recounts and before anyone can stop him, Boyd’s out the front door without an amulet and without a clue as where to start.

“Someone should go with him,” Scott starts, but Stiles stops him with a sharp tug on his shirt.

“I’ll go,” Malia offers and when Kira opens her mouth to protest, Malia covers it with her own quickly. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Kira stutters and watches Malia run after Boyd and turns to Stiles who hides his smile behind his hand. Lydia busies herself with the suspect board by the door and Allison runs her hands over Scott’s still-healing bruises. It’s not until she’s sure he’s okay that something occurs to her.

“Stiles, can’t you scry for Derek and the others?”

Casting an apologetic smile to his crystal, Stiles shakes his head. “The pendants Isaac and Erica are wearing keep them invisible from detection. It also repels those who practice magic making it harder for them to get close or even cast in their presence.”

“It didn’t seem to affect you when you handled them though,” Lydia reasons.

“Deaton thinks because my magic is drawn from the earth itself, anti-craft objects and herbs don’t affect me as much as they would a normal witch.”

Satisfied with his explanation, Lydia shrugs and begins to wipe the board clean. Something collides with Stiles’ window, causing everyone to jump in alarm. Kira’s hand is on her belt, but Stiles waves her off when he sees it’s just a bat.

When he opens the widow it flies in, chirping an alarm they all can recognize: Trouble is brewing.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Derek comes too slowly and in small increments.

He’s in a dark room, surrounded by jagged rocks and damp earth. He can smell blood; some of it’s his and some of it other: Not human, but not exactly a creature either. Derek startles when he catches Erica’s scent to his left and he slowly forces himself to move until he can see her blonde hair shining in the light from the caged opening.

Isaac sees him stir and helps him sit up before curling next to Erica who is slow to join them in consciousness.

“I don’t think they operated on her, so she should be fine,” a voice says from across the room.

Derek’s sight adjusts and can make out the shapes of two other people; a boy and a girl. The boy’s bleeding profusely from a head wound and the girl’s bleeding out from a gash in her side. They smell like death and it fills Derek with dread.

“I’m Liam and this is Hayden,” Liam gestures to the girl lying in his lap.

“I’m Derek, and that’s Isaac and Erica,” Derek replies.

“Reyes?” Liam asks intrigued and he moves to get a better look at them.

“She was in my History class last year,” Hayden mumbles under her breath before attempting to sit up. Liam protests, and slowly ushers her back down and tells her to rest.

Before Derek can ask Liam how he got there, Erica rears up, eyes bright yellow and claws extended and digging into Isaac’s nearby leg. Derek watches her slowly calm herself down when the smell of Isaac’s blood hits her nose and she winces in apology. Isaac just smiles, “Pain makes us human, remember?” and he wipes her blood from his claws.

“Surely there was better way of waking me,” Erica pouts and Isaac just shrugs, looking at Derek for affirmation.

“What are you?” Liam asks, more curious than afraid.

Derek flashes his blue eyes and watches Liam’s shoulders tense, “Werewolves.”

Opening his mouth and closing it a few times, Liam stares at them in disbelief until Hayden starts to laugh hysterically. “Of course werewolves are real. Psychos are going around trying to turn us into monsters and here they are going to our high school.”

Her laughter turns to choked sobs and Derek slowly shuffles towards them, hands raised in hopes of conveying that he was harmless.

“I can take her pain,” he informs Liam who looks two seconds from kicking him away, but he eventually nods and Derek goes slowly as not to frighten them more than they already are. Hayden is cool to the touch and Derek knows she’s not going to last much longer. Taking a deep breath, Derek focuses on her wound and cautiously pulls the agonizing pain from her body until he feels like his side is splitting open.

Hayden’s eyes fly open and she gasps; her nails digging into his bruised arm, but he doesn’t make her let go. They watch black veins decorate Derek’s arm and race up until they disappear underneath his torn sleeves. Slowly Hayden relaxes; her side no longer a field of fire, but rather a dull throb.

“Thank you,” her reverent whisper echoes in the room until Derek backs away in embarrassment. Liam thanks him as well, but Derek waves it away and slinks back to Erica and Isaac who fail to hide their approval. The rumble of thunder catches their attention and while he knows rain won’t stop the others from looking for them, it sits ill in Derek’s stomach. Carefully, Hayden eases herself up until she can lean against the wall behind her and her question stuns Derek.

“How do you become a werewolf?”

Isaac’s snort warrants a sneer from Liam, but Derek feels the same way.

“A minute ago you were calling us monsters and now you want to know how we became one?” Erica’s growl itches at something in Derek, pushing him to alertness. He knows they’re not a threat, but some instincts are harder lost than gained: Distrust being one of them.

“Okay so I misspoke. Forgive my lack of manners, but I was kidnapped from work by a nut-job in a mask who went on and on about how I was the perfect subject and I was progressing nicely.”

Erica doesn’t flinch at her tone, but her fangs retreat followed by her claws and that’s the closest to apologetic as she’s going to get. Hayden tilts her head and the tension’s gone as quickly as it came. Isaac’s the next one to ask a question and it keeps them busy until the storm hits.

“What else do you know about these guys?”

\- - - - - - - - - -

“We missed something,” Scott huffs, agitation running up and down his spine until he’s jittery with nerves.

“Or someone,” Lydia corrects.

They’re gathered around the kitchen table, the information Deaton gave them strewn about the table along with the files John copied for Stiles. The storm leaves Stiles restless, lightening flashing in the distance threatening to strike and set fire to the dry trees. He can smell the rain even with the windows locked and the thunder shakes his bones.

“This isn’t a normal storm,” Stiles announces and Kira nods in agreement. The kitsune is agitated and it’s messing with her ability to think clearly. Sensing her turmoil, Stiles brews her a cup of green tea with a pinch of ginger root and she rests her head on his shoulder in thanks. Boyd and Malia make it back before the storm worsens, unable to sense Derek and the others anywhere. Stiles doesn’t offer Boyd a cup of tea, but rather coffee and Scott offers him a reassuring smile. 

“It’s like they’ve vanished,” Malia throws herself into the sofa, sore with failure and not willing to be comforted.

An idea strikes Stiles and when he stands up slowly, unsure in his revelation, he swears violently and dashes up the stairs. No one moves until he comes bounding back down and he tosses a withered book onto the table.

“That’s not impossible actually. They could be masking Derek and the others from us. Look, Deaton said these guys sold their souls right? Searching for living things is different than searching for dead ones!” Stiles explains, excitement making him twitch.

“Wait, these guys are dead?” Malia leaps off the sofa and comes to stand next to Lydia who’s watching what she assumes is Stiles’ descent into madness.

“Spiritually, yes. Physically, not so much.”

The dust coating the yellow pages cause Scott to sneeze and Allison opens a window to prevent an outbreak of sneezing. A gust of wind flows through the kitchen and helps Stiles find the page he’s looking for. When it settles, everyone is staring at Stiles in shock.

“What, you’ve never watched Charmed before? It’s a thing!” Stiles croaks defensively.

Reading under his breath, Stiles begins to make a list of things he’ll need. Seeing his frown, Lydia speaks up.

“How difficult is this going to be?”

Stiles shrugs and crosses his hands over his chest. “Honestly, not difficult at all; I just don’t have everything I need here at the house.”

“Do you need more blood?” Kira asks and Stiles shakes his head.

“No I have plenty of that upstairs.”

His words are the opposite of reassuring. Nose wrinkled in disgust, Scott volunteers to run out and get what Stiles needs for the ritual. Boyd offers to go with and Stiles hands them a list of what to get and where to get it.

“You need one of Derek’s shirts?” Scott asks in disbelief, but once again Stiles shakes his head.

“No, just something that belongs to Erica and Isaac: I already have something of Derek’s.”

Scott pauses and he wants to ask so badly, but Boyd just nudges him out of the doorway and into the fitful night. It hasn’t begun to rain yet, and Stiles knows it won’t until he’s found what he’s looking for. The clouds will hold for him. It continues to thunder as Lydia helps Stiles gather the supplies he already has. Allison positions the candles in a circle on the table and Stiles pauses to express his grief at the likelihood he’ll have to buy another kitchen table if he’s successful.

“Dad’s gonna kill me for casting in the kitchen.”

By the time everything’s set up downstairs, Stiles sequesters himself in the bathroom for a quick purification shower. He clears his mind of all things, especially his worry for Derek, Erica, and Isaac. He must be sure if this is going to work. Doubt is dangerous when performing magic and he needs this to work more than he’s needed anything before.

Scott and Boyd have returned by the time Stiles makes his way downstairs.

Lydia places the bag of soil from the Hale house next to the green candle as Allison plants the vial of water from the river next to the blue one. Boyd gives Stiles Erica and Isaac’s articles of clothing and he’s pleased to see they are things he can put on quickly.

He’s wearing one of Derek’s gray henleys and he slips on Isaac’s scarf with a quick eye roll. Erica’s fingerless gloves are a little tight, but they fit well enough.

“I need you all to form a circle around the table – clasping hands, but don’t get too close.” Stiles warns.

When he’s satisfied with their placement, he begins to light each candle and Allison gets the lights without having to be told. He can feel their anxiety and hope as if it were his own and he uses those feelings to awaken the echoes of those he’s searching for. Stiles calls upon the woods; of the spirits in the trees who’ve welcomed him and the pack into their home. He calls upon the river; of the nymphs who’ve mourned for those dumped in their harbor. He calls upon the storm; the fierce winds sent from the sea to aid him in protecting his friends.

The candles flicker, but burn strong as Stiles calls for their light to illuminate the path to those who have stolen what is his.

Pride slowly begins to trickle in and it doesn’t take a genius to know it’s from Scott. It only fuels Stiles’ desire to complete the spell. Suddenly, a burst of energy carefully crafted by every person standing around the alter fills the room and the crystal zooms across the table: Scoring the wood beneath the map and it’s over as quickly as it began.

Allison flicks the light back on when the candles go out and Scott helps Stiles to his feet. He’s drenched with sweat, but his triumphant smile overcomes his exhaustion when Lydia hands him the map with hope in her eyes.

It had worked.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Hayden’s shallow breaths are the only thing Derek can hear.

They eclipse the thunder that grows louder with each passing second and the smell of Liam’s sadness overwhelms the scent of approaching rain. When a metallic scent wafts in, Derek feels his body tense and he already knows it’s too late, before Liam starts shouting.

“Go away, you can’t have her!”

Isaac shifts until he’s in front of Erica and Derek forces himself to his feet; Standing between them all and the masked figures on the other side of the gate. He’s too weak to defeat them, but maybe he can create a distraction and let the others escape. The gate creaks when it’s opened and heavy boots thud against the dirt floor. Derek shifts, hunching his back in warning as he lashes out, claws catching on dark fabric. The thunder masks the thump Derek makes when he’s thrown against the concrete wall. Isaac doesn’t hesitate to attack, catching the brunt force of a pipe to the gut.

Erica rolls until she’s standing in front of Liam and Hayden, golden eyes flashing in the lightning. She holds them off long enough for Derek to get back up and attack from behind, but they both end up a pile on the floor; bleeding from their lips. Before Isaac can get back up he’s shoved into the wall and smashes his head on a jagged rock. He stays down even when Erica roars in furry.

Derek knocks her out of the way when the pipe’s replaced with a needle and he cries out in agony when it pierces his neck and that’s when Liam lunges forward, knocking the masked figure to the ground. The plunger hadn’t been pushed down, but Derek still feels dizzy and it takes him a few seconds to force himself up and at the other figure who’s heading for Liam.

Erica takes the opportunity to grab Hayden and drag her towards the open gate.

“Go!” Derek shouts when he sees Erica look back in fear. Liam’s shout is cut off with a punch to the gut and Derek turns around in time to watch him take a kick to the face. Liam doesn’t get up again and Derek’s world turns red and hazy. It’s two against one and Derek’s defeat is inevitable. When he feels the press of a blade against his throat, the fight drains from Derek’s body and he sends a quick goodbye to Stiles before his eyes slide shut and his world fades to black with the sound of rain falling in the distance.

\- - - - - - - - - -

“You son of a bitch.”

“You should really wake up man, Stiles is going crazy.”

“I wanted to thank you for saving my life. Technically Scott gave me the bite, but we wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t defended us.”

“He’s so unbearable Derek please wake up and put us out of our misery!”

“Now you’re just looking for attention.”

“If you don’t wake up and tell my son you love him I am going to arrest you and ship your furry ass to Guantanamo.”

“You’re such a faker man, I love it.”

“I’m going to call Cora if you’re not awake by Friday and she’s going to make your life a living hell, just like Stiles is making ours.”

“Please Derek, please wake up. For me?”

\- - - - - - - - - -

The first thing Stiles sees when he opens his eyes is Derek.

He’s so used to that sight it takes him a couple minutes to realize Derek’s eyes are open and they’re gazing at Stiles as if he was the sun and moon rolled into one.

“You son of a bitch,” Stiles croaks.

“You said that already,” Derek reminds him and Stiles shakes his head.

“That was probably Malia actually.”

Derek thinks about it and then nods, “Yeah that makes sense.”

Stiles’ laugh is wet and he’s crawling into Derek’s bed without stopping to ask permission because he needed to be touching Derek four days ago. Derek wraps his arms around Stiles and hides his face in his neck, taking in the soft spicy scent he’d grown so fond of. They don’t confess their undying love, but when Derek pulls away Stiles kisses him until he can’t think straight. Pulling away for air, Stiles tries to say something, but Derek seals his lips over Stiles’ once more and it’s not until they hear John clear his throat four kisses later that they pull away for good.

“If I don’t say ‘it’s about time’ can I have bacon for breakfast?”

Stiles chokes on his tongue and Derek doesn’t try to hide his laughter, which apparently is the signal that brings everyone else into the room.

It takes him a while to notice a new link in the pack bond, but when his eyes fall on Liam and Hayden his smile is genuine and theirs are the same. Lydia pretends to be upset with him for taking his sweet time waking up, but before she leaves she gives his hand a tender squeeze before he realizes what she’s doing. Erica, Boyd and Isaac pile onto the bed, scenting him and Stiles quickly before Melissa kicks them out of the room.

Scott and Allison both give him half-hugs so as not to incur the wrath of Nurse McCall and Malia punches him lightly in the shoulder, which does make Melissa’s eye twitch. Kira ushers Malia out, not before telling Derek she’s glad he’s awake.

It’s very overwhelming for Derek to feel such positive emotions directed towards him and Stiles feels the ache keenly in his gut so he does what he always does when he feels tender: He talks about his mother. John and Melissa leave quietly, letting Stiles’ voice carry down the hall: Filling it with stories of the ocean and her marvels. He mentions the earth and how much she loves those who remember she’s still alive and willing to give what she can.

Derek falls asleep; carried by the waves of Stiles’ voice that trail off into a woman’s that he’s never heard before, but brings him comfort nevertheless.

_And the selkie found love in a man of logic and stone, but together they created a child filled with belief; and the sea loved him and the woods cared for him and he sheltered a spark within him that would never go out. A spark that would call his loved ones to him and keep them safe until he returned home to the sea._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be an epilogue, but it's not overly crucial right now. I want it to echo the first chapter a little only it won't be about a Claudia Stilinski. (hint: perhaps about a Claudia Hale? ha ha ha)
> 
> As you can see, I sort of decided to pick and choose certain events. I wanted to incorporate the nogitsune somehow, because even with Stiles' abilities I believe that while it would've been harder to gain control, the nogitsune could still cause trouble. Also, s4 didn't happen... at all. Basically we jumped from 3B to 5A only with a twist on the Dread Doctors. I didn't want to butcher their gloriousness so I made them stupid humans who sold their souls. I really wanted Theo to be one of them, but eh - maybe next time. I also didn't want to break this chapter up into smaller ones for fear I would trail off and lose interest. I thought about posting some sections separately, but it doesn't quite sit right with me to do so.
> 
> I tried my very best to accurately portray Stiles as a confident practitioner: Using both my own knowledge and that I've come across online. I hope I came across as both believable and factual. 
> 
> I'm sure there's more I need/want to say, but I'm just so happy right now I'll stop while I'm ahead. I hope you enjoyed my fic and you're having a lovely morning or evening.


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